


A Last Name and a Glass of Wine

by Cade Welentine (cadewelentine)



Series: Usually Silent Universe [2]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Cecil Might be Human or Inhuman, M/M, Magical Voice, Mute!Cecil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-14 23:39:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4584579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadewelentine/pseuds/Cade%20Welentine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I told you I'd be back with more of this, did I not? There are a few surprises in this, or at least I like to think. One thing I will tell you about before you start: I give Carlos a last name in this. I'm sure, of course, now that I've done this, he'll get a canon last name that will be different, and I'm willing to live that. I just thought I'd give all of you the heads up that it's coming up in this fic. </p><p>As always, enjoy reading, thank you for reading, and comments are always appreciated. :D</p>
    </blockquote>





	A Last Name and a Glass of Wine

**Author's Note:**

> I told you I'd be back with more of this, did I not? There are a few surprises in this, or at least I like to think. One thing I will tell you about before you start: I give Carlos a last name in this. I'm sure, of course, now that I've done this, he'll get a canon last name that will be different, and I'm willing to live that. I just thought I'd give all of you the heads up that it's coming up in this fic. 
> 
> As always, enjoy reading, thank you for reading, and comments are always appreciated. :D

Carlos’ tests were difficult for Cecil. Many of them involved talking into various microphones that were hooked up to metal boxes. Those boxes were covered with flashing lights and buttons and beeped at strange intervals as Cecil talked.

Carlos had a thick spiral bound notebook with a black leather cover in which he marked down what the lights and beeps did while Cecil spoke. The cover of the notebook was embossed in gold to say “Dr. Carlos” followed by what Cecil assumed would be Carlos’ last name. He never quite managed to be able to see it; the cover was either flipped open or Carlos’ hand was covering the surname.

Cecil often used surname mystery as a distraction during the tests. His mind could work independently of his mouth, after all.

Or, at least, it could most of the time.

“What are you doing?” Carlos asked, looking up from the notebook.

“Hmm?” Cecil asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Just now, you were talking about throat spiders and mid sentence you just stopped and started listing ‘Carlos’ with various last names.” Carlos explained, gesturing with his (illegal) pencil the whole time.

“Uhh...” Cecil said. “Well...I was trying to figure out your last name?” He bit his lip, studying Carlos’ face for a reaction.

“Cecil,” Carlos laughed. “If you wanted to know my last name, why didn’t you just ask? It’s not like it’s secret information- unless it is in Night Vale?”

“It-it’s not.” Cecil shook his head. “But, um, what’s your last name?”

“Oh, it’s-” Carlos kept talking, but Cecil couldn’t hear a thing; it was as if every truck and motorcycle had decided to ride by his window at that exact moment.

Still, Cecil nodded like he’d heard, “Oh, that’s, uh, that’s neat!” He mentally kicked himself. Neat? How old was he? And what decade was it? Who in their right mind said things were _neat_?

* * *

 

They went to Gino’s Italian Dining Experience and Grill and Bar in Old Town Night Vale for dinner. It had been Cecil’s idea; he knew Night Vale much better than Carlos did (much better than anyone did, actually, but he didn’t particularly like to brag), and Gino’s was the fanciest place in town.

Sure, the menu was a tad limited thanks to the wheat ban, but both Cecil and Carlos managed to find something to order (they’d gotten the same thing, as a matter of fact; single portobella mushrooms served rare and bloody- the Gino’s way).

Carlos did most of the talking. Cecil still wasn’t comfortable enough to speak in front of anyone who wasn’t Carlos, and one of the conditions laid out at the start of the arrangement had been that Carlos wouldn’t ever make Cecil talk in public if he didn’t want to. Cecil’s vocalizing was strictly limited to Carlos’ townhouse and the Palmer estate.

Carlos talked at length about a number of subjects, each of which Cecil listened to with rapt attention. Carlos had family back in Boston- a mother, a sister named Carmen (who had a daughter named Louisa), and a brother named Marcos (whose wife was named Lexi). He missed them all, naturally, and was already looking forward to going back home for Christmas (which Cecil had gleaned was some sort of holiday they had on the east coast), but he was excited to be making his way out in the desert on his own, and Night Vale was much more scientifically fascinating that Boston was.

That brought Carlos to a very long winded lecture on some experiments he’d been doing in the Desert Creek Housing Development out back of the elementary school. Apparently, one of the houses there did not exist.

“Like, it’s just right there when you look at it,” Carlos explained. “And it’s between two other identical houses, so it would make more sense for it to be there than not, but I have run some tests and the house is definitely _not there_.” He went on and on like that for a long while. Cecil didn’t understand a lick of what he was saying- a lot of science jargon and things that relied on forbidden knowledge that wasn’t taught at Night Vale High School to be understood- but Carlos was so excited and so happy that Cecil didn’t care. He just let the scientist talk.

And after a while, Carlos turned his speech away from science and back to personal matters.

“You know, I almost got married once,” he sighed, leaning back in his chair, lazily tilting a glass of white wine back and forth in his hand.

Cecil raised an eyebrow.

“It’s true,” Carlos nodded. “There was almost a Mrs. Carlos-” Cecil couldn’t hear the rest of what Carlos was saying, blood was rushing to his ears and the room was spinning at the very thought that events had almost played out in a way that could have kept Carlos not only from Cecil himself but from ever coming to Night Vale at all.

“Gillian.” Carlos said wistfully. “That was her name. We went to MIT together; she was from out of state- from New York. Her family didn’t like me much, once they’d met me. They were very, uh, let’s go with WASPy.” He sighed and finished his glass of wine in one long, extended gulp.

“They told her to dump me,” he sighed. “And she did. The wedding was called off. I was devastated. But then I got the offer to come out here, so I took it! I spent three months preparing, and then I flew out here on the day we were supposed to get married.”

He stared at the table for a moment, lost in thought, frowning. He looked miserable. And Cecil just knew. In that moment he knew everything about Carlos that the scientist tried to keep hidden. He knew just how hurt and vulnerable he was; how afraid he was of being hurt like that again.

Cecil could relate.

Cecil reached out, placing a gentle hand over Carlos’.

“I-I’m sorry,” Carlos offered. “I get chatty when I’ve had a drink or two. I shouldn’t have- you didn’t need to know all that stuff.”

“Close your eyes. Let my words wash over you.” Cecil instructed, his voice low enough so that only Carlos could hear. “You are safe now.”

And maybe he’d used the power, maybe he hadn’t, but Carlos seemed to believe him.

* * *

 

“Let me pay for it,” Carlos said, reaching for the check as soon as it had been set on the table. Cecil made a gesture of dissent.

“I insist.” Carlos shook his head, unwavering on the subject. “It’s the least I can do after you listened to me ramble all evening.” Cecil smiled, laughing through his nose.

Carlos paid with a credit card, upon which Cecil finally managed to catch his last name: Mendez.

Dr. Carlos Mendez.

It suited him, Cecil thought.

* * *

 

Carlos drove Cecil home after dinner, all the way up to the door. Cecil had insisted he could walk the hill, that Carlos didn’t have to go out of his way like that, but Carlos insisted.

“Thank you for dinner.” Cecil said, leaning in through the driver’s side window to talk to Carlos.

“My pleasure.” Carlos grinned. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

“Yeah,” Cecil nodded. “We will.”

“Well, g’night, Cecil.” Carlos said.

“Goodnight, Carlos,” Cecil said. He turned and hopped up his front steps.

He paused at the top, and turned to face Carlos again.  
“You know,” he said. “Gillian Mendez doesn’t sound that great.”

“No,” Carlos nodded. “It doesn’t.”

Cecil offered him half a smile- the other half of which was returned. He turned and went inside, waiting behind the closed door until he heard Carlos’ car roll down the hill.

In his head, the chorus of Carlos’ first name placed with hundreds of different last names had been replaced with Carlos Mendez repeated over and over and over. And then, finally- Cecil Mendez.

He could get used to the sound of that.

 


End file.
